“Using this photo (below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithchanning@gmail.com before 6pm on Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here.
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next time.”
The photo

Twilight Zone-ish by John W. Howell © 2021
“Excuse me, you, there.”
“Who there?”
“You at 38,000 feet on a 270 heading.”
“Yeah, what do you want?”
“This airspace is mine.”
“Says who?”
“Air traffic control.”
“No way. They told me this is my space.”
“I’m right behind you, and had I been asleep, I would have run up your pipes.”
“Well, you can back off and go find another space.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why?”
“When someone tells me this is mine, I’m not going to give it up to some trespasser.”
“Oh yeah. I’m calling ATC right now.”
“What frequency?”
“Why?”
“I want to be there, so you don’t fudge the truth like you always do.”
“Is this Jimmy?”
“Yes, Bobby, it is.”
“What the hell. Just because we are twins doesn’t give you the right to follow me wherever I go. The frequency is 122.25.
“Just make the call. I’ll be there.”
“Control Delta 1776.”
“Go ahead 1776.”
“Hey, hold on. I’m Delta 1776.”
“Keep quiet, Jimmy. Sorry about that Control. Requesting assigned altitude.”
“Roger Delta 1776, you are assigned 38,000 feet.”
“Thank you, Control. 1776 out. Did you hear that, Jimmy?”
“We got a problem.”
“What is it?”
“You and I are both flying Delta 1776 but in different airplanes.”
“No, you have made a mistake. I am 1776. You are something else.”
“Why didn’t the Controller say something about two planes?”
“Hmmm. That’s a good question. Of course, since we are IFR, he would have reported you being so close.”
“I think we have finally gone our own directions.”
“What do you mean?”
“Different but parallel planes of existence. Let me call Control. Control Delta 1776.”
“Go ahead 1776.”
“Could you verify my assigned altitude, and are there any planes in my vicinity?”
“Roger 1776. Your assigned altitude is 38,000 feet. You have one flight ten miles to your stern at 36,000 feet.”
“Thank you, Control. See what did I tell you? We both have this altitude but in different times or spaces.”
“How come we can talk then?”
“I don’t know. I wonder if someone put something in my coffee?”
“Don’t be silly. How can we explain this situation?”
“Remember when we were kids, and we would take each other’s places to fool the adult?”
“Yes.”
“I think this is payback.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I guess now we can feel what those folks felt.”
“Well, okay if that’s all it is. Excuse me, I have to prepare for a landing.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Where you going?”
“SFO.”
“I’ll see you there.”
“Let’s hope so.”